


Unsworn Oaths

by Graskyn



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt Stephen Strange, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Tony Stark, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graskyn/pseuds/Graskyn
Summary: Stephen battles with guilts and the consequences of his actions, Tony is there to comfort him.
Relationships: Clea Strange/Stephen Strange, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Unsworn Oaths

Cold.   
The Sanctum never was truly warm, never truly welcoming despite the glaze of fires that reflected itself upon the polished floors and wooden architecture. It was always just cold enough to provoke goosebumps but warm enough to prevent frostbite. This always brought out amusement in Tony. It kept the area feeling safe and secure whilst also not too comfortable that he or Stephen had fallen victim to sleep during their work. At least that’s what he assumed it was for, especially with Stephen almost besting him in the workaholic category of flawed characteristics.  
It was a late winters eve and Tony had just returned from a sluggishly paced avengers press conference that he really couldn’t care less about. He would have brought Stephen along with him but he had been gone on an interdimensional trip and was only planning to come back that evening. From what Tony could decipher from the magic vocabulary used was that Stephen had to sort out some unwarranted family drama between dimensions. Tony didn’t understand it but he kissed his lover goodbye and set towards buying him a return gift. He did this every time Stephen left as he knew interdimensional travel affected his state of wellbeing, and he also just really liked to bring gifts to his love whenever he could. This time around Tony invested in getting Stephen a gold tipped quill. It sits upon his desk waiting for his return.  
“Hon, are you home?”  
A muffled grumble escaped from the study room. Tony sighed in response and tread his way up the stairs into the room.  
Stephen sat on a wooden chair sectioned in the darkest corner of the room. It was eerily cold, like a sudden artic blast had rocked the room.  
“Hey beau-“  
An irritated shush emerged from the corner, the sorcerer frantically placing battered hands up to his head. This was bad. Very bad.  
“D-don’t call… m-me that!” The voice trembled from the shadows.  
“Okay.. Stephen… just get from out the shadows so I can see you.” His teeth are on the verge of chattering.  
The sorcerer sighed and got up slowly, easing his way into the centre of the room like an injured dog. Tony gasped.  
Stephens face was pale and sickly, a layer of sweat hugged his forehead whilst his usual well-kept hair was misshapen and dull. Freckles of blood decorated his chin. His tattered robes drenched with the same liquid, hands shaking more than usual.  
“Step-“  
“I- Its not mine…. Mostly…I think” he said in a daze.  
“God Stephen…. You need to get cleaned up…”  
“Yeah… that’d be good… it’s all good”  
Tony looked over his lover and huffed, before going to set up a bath.  
Stephen lowered himself onto the floor where he was standing, weakness and exhaustion overwhelming him. Staring at his blood soaked body, he lets out a muffled cry. None of it was his blood, he had barely gotten a scratch during his ventures. The smell of copper mixing with cotton made him want to gag. Just knowing the blood was there made him want to rip out his insides. He scratches at his neck.  
“Bloody fucking novice…. Goddamn bullshit magic….God I’m so sorry….”  
He then began to tug at his drenched robes, getting frustrated when they wouldn’t rip off.  
“Fucking… stupid fucking…”  
His hands yearn in pain as he manages to tear the fabric away from his torso, the adhesive formed from congealed blood ripping hairs off his chest and leaving his body red raw. It burned. Burned like the seven circles of hell on a summers day.  
He now clawed at his cheat, trying but failing to scratch off the speckles on blood.  
“’m so sorry… I fucked up so bad im so sorry…..” He said to the pile of rags discarded on the reflective floor. His robes sat there like a mound, a volcano, only molten lava is replaced by the metallic wine. A wisp of long white hair is tangled within its grasp. Stephen reaches out towards it with trembling fingers and delicacy.  
He held the lone hair close to his being, wrapping it around his fingers tightly. The feeling of the hair suffocating his numb fingertips felt deserved.  
“The bath should be ready in two mi-“ Tony walked in on his helpless soulmate, feeling his heart break as he focuses on the self-inflicted scratched upon his white skin.  
“A bath… yes… sounds great” He didn’t look up to Tony, just focused on the white hair.  
“Stephen… what happened?”  
“Nothing… just a fight… reclaimed the dark dimension… yknow the usual.”  
Tony nodded, knowing that prying into Stephen’s lies will only make him hide himself further away.  
“So… do you want help to the bathroom or-“  
“I’m fine.” He lifted himself off the ground stiffly, wobbling when both feet made contact with the floor and upheld his weight. He went to take a step, knees buckling beneath him and causing him to come crashing back down onto the floor. Tony hooked the man up underneath his shoulders.  
“You are not fine Stephen…”  
“m just tired..”  
“Sure…”  
“You’re not buying it, are you?”  
“Nope…”  
“It’s not as bad as you think….”  
“And how am I meant to know that without you telling me?”  
Stephen didn’t answer, he simply let himself into the bathroom alone, white hair still wrapped around his finger.   
He got into the bathtub and laid his head back, staring at the white ceiling. The water around him becoming a tinted rose as he closed his eyes.  
That’s when he saw her. Her long legs decorated in purple robes not dissimilar to his own, her white hair set alight by a crown of flames.  
And then her screams, oh how horrible. They pierce through his heart like daggers.  
Forcing his eyes back open Stephen scrambles out of the bath, heaving and heavily panting at the not so distant memory.  
In his panicked scramble he’d lost the hair tied around his finger… he’d lost her. His Clea.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you want more parts to this,  
> im sorry if its sad


End file.
